


Nibble

by JanitorBot



Category: Darkstalkers (Video Games), Rockman X | Mega Man X, TEPPEN (Video Games)
Genre: But that's what magic's for, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Illustrations, TEPPEN!X prob has no desire, Wheeeee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23396971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanitorBot/pseuds/JanitorBot
Summary: “I can’t imagine it’s comfortable to live in a bar,” X says with some ache.Morrigan erupts into a laugh. “Oh, I don’t live in the bar!”X lets out a small relieved sigh.She points at the floors above the bar. “I stay in the brothel.”X chokes.
Relationships: Morrigan/X
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Nibble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SouthernBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernBird/gifts).



> A commission fic for the lovely SouthernBird who requested the following:  
> Morrigan/X, X must have a bike, NSFW (?) :3c  
> Featuring: horny. Because succubus. Wheeeee -  
> I hope you enjoy this!

_Psevthesthiseon_ is an awfully appropriate, complicated name for such an equally complicated city. The ground is lined with cobblestones smashed against one another as if they’re fighting for space. Practically every yellowed grey building is made of thick brick. They’re sturdy and worn, stark against the seemingly ever-present sea of smog that licks their feet as if grimly waiting for something to bash them.

And justifiably so. People of all kinds and of all powers traverse here.

Riding on an ordinary yet effective motorbike, X takes note of every single of them as he passes by. It’s night and the moon is choking in clouds, gasping light. In this kind of darkness, only certain types dare to walk on the streets and X wants to make sure that this night will stay peaceful. Even when he doesn’t have all the answers, his mission stays the same: protect the vulnerable.

His directive is all he has left in this strange world.

There’s still so much mystery, so many questions, and X is left dangling without answers. Why did he wake up in such a land? What happened to the world he used to be? According to his internal chronometer, he has been roaming in this new world for nearly a month and he’s no more closer to the truth than he was in the beginning. Fritz, he doesn’t even know if time normally applies to this world either.

However, he can’t say that he doesn’t entirely enjoy it. This new world has so many different peoples. Shocking at first, but the novelty wore off quickly. X got used to it and now finds it delightful. People eye the Mega Man and don’t know who he is. A relic of a time long ago? As if that’s any more special than the local ancient dragon prowling in the forest outskirts.

It’s both exhilarating and anxiety-inducing. On one hand, X revels and relishes that he’s treated as another person. On the other hand, there’s a degree of uncertainty that he’s not used to. There’s so many new and different threats and he doesn’t always know what to do or how to gauge the next person.

X’s aural cones register a shriek of shattering glass.

He brakes hard and the bike screeches in protest beneath him at the swift demand. Swerving to the curb, X plants a foot out for balance. He waits.

More shattering accompanied by angry voices. The noise is coming from the building at the other side of the street. Flurry of dark silhouettes among the orange lighting from the windows.

Instantly, X rushes across, right arm already transformed into his trademark buster, buzzing in a cautious red. He swings the entrance open and inwardly recoils at the sharp smells of alcohol punching his olfactory sensors.

Tables overturned and chairs fallen on their sides like drunkards. Sets of eyes from humans and creatures both peering curiously at him, the new arrival. The bartender has shoved his own back against the shelves of bottles, cautious yet entirely disinterested at the scene before him: a hulking bull of a man hovering above a woman lain on the bar counter. Her sea green hair is strewn over the edge. Her jade eyes dart to X’s own.

The man’s hand is wrapped around her throat.

X’s buster growls louder.

* * *

X knocks the offender down within five minutes.

The anti-climatic fight ends with the man crashing onto the floor face first. In his fury he attempts to rise only to bash his head against the bottom of the stool that stumbled over his head. He knocks himself out cold.

“Th-thank – “ the woman starts nearby but her voices trails off into a weak groan. She rubs her neck mournfully and X frowns.

“Sir, do you have any green herbs?” X asks to the bartender.

“This a bar, not a hospital,” the bartender grunts unsympathetically, summoning a wipe and cleaning the blood off the counter. “Get out of here. And take the girl with you. She’s your problem now.”

X bristles at the cold attitude but bites his tongue.

 _He doesn’t want to do anything more with the situation,_ X tries to understand.

Which is fair. X himself doesn’t want to add more to the conflict either, despite the desire to voice out the unfair treatment.

Finally, X responds stiltedly, “Have a good night,” and whispers, “Here, I’ll help you out,” to the woman. He gingerly takes her right hand with his own right, his other arm across her shoulders to shield her slender form. She’s taller than him but she’s keeping her arms close to herself, withdrawing and making herself look small. X aches for her.

X throws a warning glare over his shoulder just in case before leaving.

“You’re kind,” the woman says later when they reach X’s bike. “You helped when no one else wouldn’t. With the life I lead, I’m not used to that.” She huffs through her nostrils as if her almost strangulation was at best a minor inconvenience.

“The life you lead…?” X asks tentatively.

“Oh sweetheart, take a guess,” she coos. She pulls an arm up beneath her breasts, puffing them out in a manner that’s not lost to X. With only a thin white shirt for protection, her chest teases to spill out beyond the fragile fabric.

“What matters is that you’re safe,” the Elite Maverick Hunter replies neutrally. He doesn’t want her to think that he sees her any different.

Something in his response has the woman smiling approvingly. “I’m Morrigan,” she says, pale eyes glittering.

“I’m X,” he says reaching his hand out. “It’s nice to meet you, Morrigan.”

Morrigan grasps it and X suppresses the strange shiver that bounds through him. His hands are armored and thus aren’t as sensitive as the average human’s – and yet, somehow his sensors are heightened, focusing on how _soft_ the slender hand in his feels.

Baffled at himself, X releases as if dropping it, while Morrigan purrs,” Oh, the circumstances could have been better.” Her voice drops lower. “Much better.”

X looks back up from his strange hand to the woman giving the robot a thorough look-over. She ends her study by staring into his eyes with a playful smirk.

Feeling like his cogs dislodged, X can only blink owlishly. It’s not that he’s not aware of the innuendo but…really? So soon after such a violent encounter?

No. He barely knows her, barely knows this town and the lives it leads, and he’s in no place to judge how someone copes.

Shaking his head, X swings a leg over his bike and offers a hand to Morrigan. “If you’re comfortable with it, I can escort you back home. If you don’t want me to know where you live, I can drop you off anywhere in the city. You can just tell me where to go.”

“First you rescue the damsel in distress and now a ride home? Aren’t you the gentleman,” Morrigan says in obvious delight, taking his hand.

She climbs on the seat behind X, snuggling in comfortably as if she belongs there. Her arms snake around his belly, her knees bedding by his thighs. The glossy glow of her red leather leggings draws X’s eyes to her legs despite him. Strangely, X is more aware of the warm weight pressed against him through his unfeeling armor. Like he can feel Morrigan through the layers of Titanium X alloy.

Ordering his ventilations to shut up, the Maverick Hunter tightens his grip around the handlebars.

What is wrong with him?

He speeds off without another word. It’s a strange night so far. Hopefully the wind would do him some good.

* * *

“You can stop at the curb over there, darling,” Morrigan chirps a moment later.

X brings the bike to a slow stop, his core dropping into his compact tank at the sight of the building.

It’s old but it’s not dirty or run-down. The multi-story building has touches of Romanesque architecture, outfitted with gothic lanterns stuffed with drippy candles and purple neon lights. It’s a strange balanced flair of regal and urban. The sultry sign wired above the door whispers, “The Thirsty Soul” with an icon of a liquid spilling out a wine glass.

“I can’t imagine it’s comfortable to live in a bar,” X says with some ache.

Morrigan erupts into a laugh. “Oh, I don’t live in the bar!”

X lets out a small relieved sigh.

She points at the floors above the bar. “I stay in the brothel.”

X chokes.

Morrigan must have sensed X’s quiet distress because she’s grinning like hellfire, seizing both of X’s hands in hers with an airy, “I can see you’re uncertain. Why don’t you spend the night with me before you judge it’s oh-so pitiful?”

“I’m not judging,” X exclaims hurriedly. “It’s…to live where you work doesn’t seem comfortable either…”

He cuts himself off, irked by his own hypocrisy. Didn’t he use to live in the Maverick Hunters Headquarters before all this?

Except he’s an android. The comfort standards of robots and humans are wildly different. He’s sure that most humans wouldn’t be happy to live out of their own office cubicle. At least Dr. Cain preferred his bed than his wheelchair.

Inching him closer to the doorway, Morrigan winks. “I’ll show you how comfortable it can be. Besides, I want to treat you well for what you did for me earlier.”

“You don’t need to. I wasn’t helping you for a reward,” says X, trying not to tug his hands away too hard from the woman’s grasp.

Morrigan’s face falls. “Do you…not find me attractive?” she asks quietly, her voice cracking at the edges.

Afraid that he offended her, X reassures hastily, “What? No! You’re very beautiful, Morrigan.”

Pout vanishing, Morrigan exclaims slyly, “Then you wouldn’t have an issue being with me then.”

Verbally cornered, X states weakly as his final protest, “I’m a robot. I can’t…feel pleasure the same way as other people can.”

Frag, this is awkward.

“We’ll see about that. Personally, I’ve never been with a robot before so this will be a fun learning experience,” Morrigan says lightly.

X holds back a sigh as he lets himself be tugged away into the building’s jaws. For now he’ll just go with her and show that there’s nothing she can do.

She takes him to the back of the bar, passing a few guests and hosts who look at X, look at Morrigan, than back at X with a knowing smile. X is led up to a set of rickety wooden stairs that groan under his feet. The steps are thin and the walls on the way up are lined with stones. The hall is washed in tantalizing, dim pink lighting. It rumbles like a throat as Morrigan drags X further down.

The android dials down his hearing settings when he registers faint moans from the various closed rooms around him.

“Here’s an empty one,” Morrigan observes with a smile. She pries an already opened door further, inviting X into a room that’s conquered by a luxurious, upholstered four poster canopy bed. Sheer white curtains glow under the soft moonlight pouring from the window, fluttering yet demurely keeping to themselves away from the smoldering orange lighting from the ceiling.

Morrigan doesn’t give X a moment to hesitate; she’s already nudging the Hunter’s back towards the bed, pushing his shoulders in silent command to sit on the edge of the bed.

“You don’t seem particularly excited,” she says, dipping a finger beneath X’s chin and lifting it up to her.

“You’re very lovely,” says X. “But I’m really just a robot.”

“Won’t you let me make an attempt, dear?” she breathes, far from discouraged. She leans close, lips shy from touching X’s. “I’m a bit of a sore loser. I especially don’t like losing without being given a chance to play.”

“Is this a game?” X chuckles to disperse the strange tension weaving in the air. He sobers quickly with a serious look. “You can try. Please don’t feel that there’s anything wrong with you if I don’t react.”

He’ll indulge her for a couple minutes. Morrigan will see that X doesn’t have the parts, give up, and end what’s predicting to be an awkward and uncomfortable situation. Then he’ll return to his patrol.

Morrigan’s eyes flash.

Suddenly the air is heavy. The shadow corners of the room appear deeper even though X’s photosensitive receptors marked no change in the lighting. X’s mouth is parting despite him. The temperature hasn’t changed either so why is he getting warmer? His systems are activating coolant but it’s not getting any less hotter.

Morrigan licks her lips and X can’t help but follow the movement. “Thanks for the permission, sweetheart,” she coos.

She dives in, capturing X’s mouth with her own and X freezes. She kisses him, chaste at first, before deepening in, nibbling his lips teasingly. Her tongue slips in and it’s hot, molting hot – his processor is buzzing so loud, full of static and X has to pull away to ventilate, before he explodes. He has no need for lungs and yet he’s gasping for air.

X raises a trembling hand to his mouth. “Wh-what was…?” His own hand slides down to his throat, down his chest and he gasps, his fingers lingering at the thin spaces between his armor plating, as if he can feel something, something _more_ if he just peel everything apart –

“Don’t disappoint me now. I expect more of a challenge.”

Clever hands replace X’s, sweeping over his armored form and everything feels wonderful and horrible. X is trapped, trapped in armor, in layers. There’s this irrational need to be defenseless, to be only pure cables and wires and circuitry to those amazing hands, caressing his neck, his joints, the curve of his belly –

X can’t take it anymore. He lies down, back arching, helpless.

“What did you do to me?” He struggles out.

“Relax. A little magic has never hurt anyone.” Morrigan smirks. “Unless I want to that is.”

Magic. _Magic._

Powerful, fickle stuff that X has so little data on. 

"If you had magic, why didn't you..."

"Fight off that nasty brute myself?" Morrigan finishes for him. "If I did, then I wouldn't have been able to bait a strong, competent hero."

A trap then. X was ill-equipped from the start.

Morrigan traces an idle finger on his chest. "Besides, it's unbecoming to hunt for meals when they can come to _me._ In that sense, you were wonderful. Barreling down the door like that. The perfect little package practically hand-delivered with a ribbon on top." She pokes the crimson jewel on his helmet for good measure. 

She kisses him again. “It feels good doesn’t it?” she says. Her voice seems to echo inside his head. “It must be such a burden to play nice _all_ the time. You can relax, X. You can be _rough.”_

“I can’t,” X groans out. “I – “

“Naughty, naughty, X. It's one thing to reject royalty - that can have you executed in some lands, don't you know? You're fortunate I'm benevolent. However, it's another thing to _lie_. I can taste your desire."

"That's the magic!"

"You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, honey. But we both know the truth. You _want_ this. The magic only allows you to feel like humans do. The need to bare everything to _me."_

Magenta light swirl around Morrigan’s form. Her white shirt and leather pants vanish for a tight fitting suit with an open heart beneath her chest, flaring out at the top. A pair of small demon wings sprout from the sides of her head just as larger ones fan out from her back. A traitorous thought flits through X’s mind. What would it be like to touch them? Caress them?

Gulping, X watches helplessly as the Empress of Makai strokes his cheek with sharp nails. 

“It’s rude to disobey your betters. Now how should I go about punishing you?” 

X yelps with a jolt. The succubus is tugging at his plating with a finger. She’s so much stronger than she looks, already picking at the barely noticeable seams of X’s construction. Popping them open with the cruel curiosity of a child sprinkling salt on a snail.

Morrigan pauses. Her elegant features twist in mild displeasure.

“This is unfortunate. Your life energy isn’t something I can take.”

X opens his eyes blearily. He doesn’t even remember closing them at all. “W-what?”

“No matter,” Morrigan waves away. “I can still feed off your ecstasy. Consider yourself fortunate – if you were meaty, I’d wring you wet and dry.”

Underneath the thick fog of stimulation, a part of X panics. Morrigan is nudging away his shock absorbers, her sinful hands snaking deeper and deeper. He twitches at every wire she plays, electricity thrumming through him as she brushes against his power distributors. He’s reduced to a simple ball of sparks under her. It feels too, too good that it seems unreal. There’s no way he’s allowed to feel this and not be malfunctioning.

Morrigan laughs, a mean charming sound. “Are all robots this easy or is it just you? Either way, you’re adorable.”

She kisses him again and X is drowning. He’s being flooded with so much sensation, so much heat and he’s never been so aware of his body like this before. He feels so weak, has only enough strength to raise a hand to Morrigan’s chest. He means to push her but the demon encourages him to cup her breast. Now both of his hands are on her because Morrigan is moaning and it’s the most wonderful noise he has ever heard. He want her to keep touching him, to keep touching her, and have her writhe and squirm against him. He rolls a nipple in one hand while his other hand goes around Morrigan’s sensual back. Lowering further to appreciate the curve of her lips, and down to the moist warmth between her thighs.

Morrigan squeals. The sound vibrates through X’s body in all the right spots. Embolden by her pleased sounds, he licks a trails to her sternum, kissing her breasts on his way to her belly, to below. But then the empress seizes his helmet roughly to stop him and he whimpers. She smells so good and he wants to taste her. Her satisfaction is his satisfaction. His current directive.

“Please Morrigan,” he begs quietly. He’s so far gone that there’s not an ounce of shame in his pleas. “I want to make you feel good. Please let me.”

_I want to know what it feels like to not be me._

Because why not? In a world that he’s no longer Mega Man, he’s allowed to have this, right? He’s allowed to be normal and normal people can desire freely. He wants that. He’s so full of want and it’s addictive to feed it. To keep riding on this growing high.

The demon is studying his gaze. Whatever she was searching for, she must have found it because she smiles. Lips curved in the shape of a scythe’s blade, happy.

“And I thought _I_ was the hungry one,” she whispers, fangs out. She lets go and X falls back in.


End file.
